


The Shirt

by doomtwinkie (shinysparks)



Series: The Force Between Us [5]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abbie Mills Shines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, Established Ichabod Crane/Abbie Mills, F/M, Force-sensitive Abbie Mills, Ichabbie Forever, Ichabod Crane Jedi Knight, Making Out, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, When things go to hell I take refuge in a galaxy far far away, author is a huge sucker for happily ever after, content warning: vomit, probably nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 10:18:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/pseuds/doomtwinkie
Summary: A brief prequel to the Force Between Us: when a laundry droid accidentally destroys her clothes, Abbie is forced to borrow Crane's shirt out of necessity. Naughtiness ensues.





	The Shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymelady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymelady/gifts).



> Based on [this prompt:](http://otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/post/152653518159/imagine-your-otp)
> 
>  **Tol:** is that my shirt  
>  **Smol, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees:** ... no
> 
> Also, a refresher is basically a shower/bathroom/etc. in the Star Wars universe. And a dianoga is the same creature that attacked Luke in the Death Star's trash compactor in Episode IV. ;)

_Two hours before the ill-fated mission on Orto Plutonia..._

The laundry droid had destroyed her clothes.

Abbie sighed, eyeing her shredded outfit that laid on a bench outside of the refresher. The note attached had been an apology of sorts, that the droid had malfunctioned, that the Republic would compensate her for the loss of her clothing, blah, blah, blah. It was all very official. It was also quite unhelpful, seeing as how her quarters - where the rest of her clothing was stored - was on the Witness, docked a full two decks below her. That was a problem, considering the only thing that she had to cover herself with was a plain, gray towel.

She plopped down on the bench and groaned. It was morning, and the corridors of the ship would no doubt be filled with people. There was little hope of her making it back to the Witness unseen. She considered sending a droid to fetch something, but... it was a droid that had gotten her into this mess in the first place...

Abbie furrowed her brow. “No, it was actually Crane,” she muttered to herself, thinking back. Crane and two of his clone trooper buddies, who had all discovered a baby dianoga living in one of the nearby toilets. Crane, who, along with his buddies, had tried to feed the baby dianoga. Crane, who, along with his buddies, had _overfed_ the baby dianoga, causing the poor thing to barf up the foul contents of its stomach all over the room and everyone in it - including her own unlucky self, who had just walked in to check and see what in the hell was taking Crane so freaking long.

Thank the Force the refresher never ran out of hot water, she thought. Vomit was harsh and smelly as it was, but it was something else entirely when it came from a creature that made its home in the ship’s septic system.

Abbie once again considered sending a droid for her clothes, until she spied Crane’s laundered clothes folded neatly in a pile next to hers. His clothes had survived the malfunctioning droid, apparently. Either that, or they were new clothes. She reached over and grabbed up the beige-colored undershirt sitting on top of the pile. There was a tiny, silver tag attached to the collar, stating Crane’s usual size. _Yep, new,_ Abbie thought, shaking her head. Of course the Jedi would make sure _he_ had new stuff. Of course they would.

Without a second thought, she ripped the silver tag off the collar and tossed it. She then stripped her towel and threw the billowy undershirt on over her head.

The shirt actually fit her... sort of. Abbie smoothed it down at the sides, and then stared at her reflection in a nearby mirror. It may have been a shirt on her tall, lanky partner; but, it was quite clearly a dress on her. It fell nearly to her knees, in fact. The deep v-neck with the ties, though... they left little to the imagination. In fact, certain parts of her anatomy could easily slip out of the shirt if the ties were left untied - possibly even if they were tied. She was confident that the Jedi would not approve of such attire, something that made her grin from ear to ear.

She heard the refresher door whoosh open and then closed. Crane cleared his throat behind her. She turned and smirked at him, as he stood there, dripping wet, with nothing more than a gray towel wrapped around his lower half. 

“Is... is that my shirt?” he asked, pushing a long strand of wet hair out of his face.

“No,” Abbie replied, first staring him in the eyes, then at his glistening chest, and then back to his eyes. She grinned innocently.

Crane raised an eyebrow.

“I am fairly certain that is my shirt,” he said with a smirk of his own.

Abbie walked over to him confidently, the v-neck of the shirt widening as she did. Crane peeked at her chest. She noticed, and smiled coyly.

“Oh really?” She teased, putting her hand directly on the scar across his chest and pushing him backwards; back into the door of the refresher. She pressed herself close to him, breathing in a mix of soap and earthiness, “then I suppose you’ll have to take it off of me, won’t you?”

Crane chuckled, and then took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and raised his hand. The air around them became charged, and the bottom of the shirt she wore began to float upwards. First one thigh was exposed, then then other, then her bottom. Abbie scoffed, grabbing onto the shirt and pushing it back down.

“Not with the Force,” she chided as he opened his eyes, “that’s too easy. That’s... cheating.”

Crane nodded, grinning.

“So, I would need to use my hands, then,” he said, wrapping his long arms around her, his hands and lanky fingers finding her bottom. He grabbed a hold of her cheeks playfully, squeezing at first; and then lifting her up all the way to his midsection. Abbie snaked her own arms up around his neck, bringing her almost to eye level with him.

“Hands seem fair. So do fingers.” She said, staring him directly into the eyes, “especially fingers.”

He wiggled his fingers enthusiastically, squeezing her bum as he did. He then kissed her gently on the lips, causing her to moan sensually.

“Mouth?” He asked breathlessly.  
“Please?” She mumbled, returning a passionate kiss of her own, “er, I mean, _obviously._ ”  
“And tongue?”

Abbie twisted her legs around him, knocking the towel that was wrapped around his lower half to the floor. Crane barely noticed his complete and utter nakedness; or that he was starting to flush everywhere. Instead, he pecked at her, each kiss tickling her with his beard, all the way down her neck. She gasped contentedly with each peck. With barely a thought, she slid her foot along the door frame, triggering the refresher door and causing it to slide open. Crane stepped backwards into the refresher, still holding her.

“I have no idea how you’re going to remove this shirt with your tongue, Crane,” she told him, moaning as he sucked at her neck, “but I welcome the attempts.”

“Even the failed attempts?” He asked between kisses, offering a playful wink.

Abbie chuckled, before reaching down to kiss him intensely.

“Especially the failed attempts,” she said, as the refresher door closed behind them...

**Author's Note:**

> NGL, trying to write sexy times when you're gray-asexual is haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard. I'm getting better, though. I mean, at least there were no animal noises this time around. ;)


End file.
